


Stay

by chaineddove



Category: Loveless
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-07
Updated: 2006-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaineddove/pseuds/chaineddove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Soubi reminds Ritsuka of Seimei.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

The computer on Seimei’s desk was emitting a high-pitched electrical hum. Seimei didn’t seem to be bothered by the noise, but it made Ritsuka’s ears twitch lightly. He shifted his weight. “Won’t you get killed?” he asked, speaking of the computer game Seimei had abandoned the moment Ritsuka came into his room.

“It doesn’t matter,” Seimei told him. “I’ll just go back later and do it again. Hold still.”

“Sorry,” Ritsuka murmured; at Seimei’s exasperated glance, he fell obediently silent. Seimei’s hands glided gently over his face; Ritsuka tried not to wince at the sting of antiseptic.

Seimei applied a small square of cotton bandage to the deep gash just under Ritsuka’s eye, secured it, and leaned back to study the results. He brought his gentle hands back, skimming over Ritsuka’s hair, stroking one exhaustedly flattened ear. Ritsuka leaned into the caress.

Behind Seimei, the computer screen reverted to a shooting star screensaver. Ritsuka watched it for a moment as Seimei stroked his hair in silence, just for something to do so he wouldn’t have to leave, but concentrating on it only made him sleepy. He wished he could curl up on Seimei’s bed — preferably with Seimei warm and solid beside him — and succumb to his exhaustion.

He didn’t want to go back to his own bed; not when he had wakened to his mother dragging him out of it, wild-eyed and furious at some wrong he had committed. He had been too disoriented to understand what she had been yelling before he had managed to escape to cower in the sactuary of Seimei's room, blood trickling lazily down his cheek.

He wondered suddenly what he would do if Seimei was not here to protect him. It did not bear thinking about. “I got blood on your bed,” he said very quietly. 

“I don’t mind,” Seimei said.

“I mind,” Ritsuka said. With a small sigh, Seimei drew him close. Ritsuka hid his face in the collar of Seimei’s shirt and tried to suppress the light shivering going through his body. He had to be brave. It was just a scratch, he tried telling himself firmly. Nothing at all to cry over. “I wish I could disappear.” The words came out without him meaning them to. He had never voiced this thought before, though it had been growing insistently inside him for over a year.

Seimei’s hands stilled. “Ritsuka, no.”

“You can’t like doing this all the time,” Ritsuka said. Seimei was always saving him, patching him up, calming him, staying awake with him, abandoning homework and video games and friends for him, just because he was very small and very helpless. He would want him to disappear, if he were his mother or Seimei. He was nothing but trouble.

“But I do,” Seimei told him firmly. He drew Ritsuka closer into his arms, into his warmth, the fresh laundry scent of his clothing, and safety. “Because Ritsuka is important to me, this is something I want to do.”

Ritsuka let his tension go all at once in a heavy sigh. Suddenly, all he felt was tired. So tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open, not even with the computer humming in his ears. “I want to stay with you,” he said through a heavy yawn.

“Stay,” Seimei responded as Ritsuka knew he would. “Lie back; you’re already asleep.” It was true — he felt himself fading into unconsciousness as Seimei laid him down, soft, kind hands and soft lips brushing his cheek just above the new bandage. _Forever,_ Ritsuka wanted to say, _not just tonight,_ but he was too tired. He yawned again and slid into warm, easy oblivion.

***

Ritsuka was used to the ambient humming of the computer now, and barely noticed it. It had hardly taken a week for him to grow used to it — Seimei’s computer, now his computer, humming on the desk. At first, he left it on because in a strange way it reminded him of Seimei. Now, he just left it on because he forgot to turn it off. “Ritsuka, you really don’t need to-”

“I do,” he cut off sharply, used to this game by now. “Hold still.”

“You know, I’m not hurt that badly.” Soubi’s voice was very amused.

Ritsuka glared. “I said _hold still_.” Seeing that his patient was about to protest, he let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. “Consider it an _order_ , Soubi.”

Soubi held still. He held so still, he didn’t even bat a lash when Ritsuka cleaned the bleeding words on his neck, though Ritsuka winced, thinking how horribly it must sting. But of course, Soubi would probably sit perfectly still now if Ritsuka picked up the computer monitor and smashed it over his head. When Soubi got it into his mind to obey, he _really_ obeyed.

Ritsuka sat up on his knees on the bed and picked up the roll of gauze he had started keeping handy for such occasions. “Lift your hair.” Soubi did. Ritsuka began winding the bandage around Soubi’s neck. He felt the annoyance on his face melt away as he patted the bandage into place, his hands gentle over old, bleeding scars. They bled because of him, he understood. Because the name had been betrayed, Soubi said. Because he had taken Ritsuka as his Sacrifice, someone with a different name. He smiled and he bled and Ritsuka snarled and glared and bandaged.

Because Soubi’s skin felt good under his fingers, he took his time about it, wrapping the bandage tight enough to stop the bleeding, but not too tight. When he was finished, he tied it off and then sat back on his heels to examine his work. He had gotten far too good at this for his liking. “Can you breathe?”

“Ritsuka did a good job,” Soubi said. He released his hair and it tumbled down around his face, a darker frame to the stark white gauze. Because he wanted to very badly, Ritsuka reached out and caught a soft strand which had landed across Soubi’s face, tucking it behind his ear. Soubi smiled as though he knew a secret and Ritsuka snatched his hand away as though scalded.

“You’re an idiot, Soubi,” Ritsuka told him gruffly. “If you didn’t let me take care of that, it would only get infected.” He remembered Seimei telling him that, very long ago, when Ritsuka had been loath to have his many injuries cleaned and anesthetized, with all the stinging misery that went with the process.

Soubi’s eyes told him that Soubi was humoring him. “I’m glad that Ritsuka is concerned,” he said.

Ritsuka blushed. “It’s only that it will hurt even more later,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“You’re quite right,” Soubi said with another one of those smiles that made Ritsuka so very uncomfortable. “I’m sorry to put you out,” he said, as if Ritsuka hadn’t dragged him here very nearly against his will. “I got blood on your bed.”

“I don’t mind,” Ritsuka said, suddenly very embarrassed. “You’re not putting me out. I’d _rather_ take care of your wounds before they get bad. Because… because Soubi is important to me, this is something I want to do,” he finished in a rush, blushing wildly.

“Ritsuka-”

“Go to sleep,” Ritsuka cut off, unwilling to look up at him. He had just said something very stupid. Why didn’t these things sound stupid when Seimei said them? He had always felt loved and comfortable when he had heard such things from his brother, but saying them himself, he just felt stupid. Even if they were true. “Now, Soubi. I know you’re tired.”

“Ritsuka is asking me to sleep in his bed?” Soubi said very carefully.

Ritsuka’s ears twitched in helpless humiliation. He wished he could make them stop. “Well, you’ve already bled on it. I don’t see why not.”

“As Ritsuka wishes.” Ritsuka felt Soubi shift his weight to lie down.

For a long time, he just sat there, head down, trying to get his composure back. Finally, he looked up. “Soubi…” There was no answer. Soubi’s breathing was deep and regular — it seemed he had taken Ritsuka’s order to sleep _right now_ to heart. Ritsuka reached out a hand to tentatively brush over Soubi’s hair, his face, the bandage, but the Fighter didn’t move. “I want you to stay,” Ritsuka said very quietly. Acting on sudden impulse, he leaned down and bushed a light kiss over Soubi’s cheek, then pulled away quickly, blushing though there was no one to see.

He settled down, awkwardly at first, but his body seemed to fit into the long curve of Soubi’s quite well, he discovered, and it was very warm, like this. Like Seimei, what seemed so long ago. “Stay,” Ritsuka repeated, then yawned. _Forever,_ his mind supplied, _not just tonight._ But this time it was Soubi who was asleep, before he could say it.

Not that he would say it, probably, if Soubi was awake. Those sorts of things just sounded better in your head. Feeling very self-conscious, he reached over his head to his desk and turned off the light.


End file.
